Quirky. Weird. Wanderer.

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Martyr

A year go, she was the luckiest girl as she could put the words together.
He had a guy on his feet ready to give him anything. Relating songs to her, poems, and all the wonderful things he could ever relate to his love for her.

Where did it went wrong?

They are merely strangers now who talk when they need the warmth of each others body. They look for happiness but they get lost in the sea of sadness. They can’t get anything but emptiness in each other company.

I guess love really can’t exist if you can’t even love or trust yourself… and she doesn’t.

She got overwhelmed with the love she’s getting and couldn’t handle it.

When it’s too much it breaks you.

The only way for it to stop hurting is for you to let go, I can’t promise that it won’t hurt as well but I can assure you that a lesson will be learned from it.

But she hasn’t let go yet, she hasn’t listened to me.

So everytime she cries, I let her cry alone. She has to learn the consequence of the life she chose.

It hurts seeing yourself cry and knowing your helpless.
But I chose this rather than losing him.

I am not happy but I am not sad either.

I guess this state is what they call the ~psycho love or am I just plain stupid.